


What Belongs to Caesar

by Ironlawyer



Category: Marvel 616
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Betrayal, Captivity, Identity Porn, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-21
Updated: 2020-02-21
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:09:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22836811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ironlawyer/pseuds/Ironlawyer
Summary: After a night with Ty, Tony wakes up in chains with no clue how he got there.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, Tony Stark/Tiberius Stone
Comments: 22
Kudos: 60
Collections: You Gave Me A Stocking 2019





	What Belongs to Caesar

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WhenasInSilks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhenasInSilks/gifts).
  * Translation into 中文-普通话 國語 available: [【泰铁|微盾铁】 What Belongs to Caesar 凯撒的归凯撒](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23006758) by [salazar1117](https://archiveofourown.org/users/salazar1117/pseuds/salazar1117)



> A very later Stocking gift for WhenasInSilks. Love you and hope you enjoy.

Tony wakes lying naked in a puddle of his own piss, sober and shivering. He reaches for his head to rub away the pain and loosen up the memories. Chains chatter relentlessly. It takes him too long to realise it's because he is shaking and they are shackled around his wrists. 

The room is full of old electrical parts, racks full of expensive wines, and shelves of antique nick-nacks and high class liquors. He laughs. Here he is, chained up like an exotic pet in someone's private cellar and no idea how he got here.

There's a distant memory of meeting Ty at a party last night (last night? It feels like last night, but how long has he been here) for the first time in years. Giggling like the schoolboys they were all those years ago, sharing too many drinks, dancing, grinding dirty on the dancefloor and using Ty's charms to beg them a little free ecstasy. Then the whispered suggestion that they should go back to Ty's room. 

They'd fucked, shared more drinks and swapped trade secrets. Then it's choppy memories plunged into the familiar haze of the morning after. He has the vague image of putting on the Iron Man helmet and in a fit of giggles proclaiming himself invincible. Letting Ty try it on, and the gauntlets too. After that, whatever happened is a mystery.

Ty isn't here now. Tony wonders if that means he is dead. He'd laugh if he didn't feel so much like kicking himself, he’s supposed to be a hero and he can't even keep an old friend safe for one night in his company. 

But it's no use dwelling, maybe Ty is out there in another room somewhere. Maybe he’s still in the hotel, wrapped in sticky sheets and sleeping off a hangover. 

Tony wishes he could reach the wine. 

The chains give him enough room to lie down but the thick rings of bolted metal have little give and he'd have to crush his wrists to get out of them. For a moment he considers it, but with two broken wrists and no armour, he'd never make it out alive, no matter how well Steve's training has prepared him.

All he can reach is a single rusty screw fallen loose from a shelf. He spends some minutes digging at the joints in the cuff with screw, but it'd take weeks of it to make any headway. Still, he scrapes away at it until his fingers are swollen and numb and he can hardly hold the screw any longer. 

His whole body is screaming at him to rest, the sluggish hangover brain, stiffness in his limbs and the cold. Curling up on himself, as a beast in a sideshow, he considers a life without all of this. He could have been a simple man, watching movies and drinking whiskey and living off his father's fortune. It would have been an uneasy peace, but peace nonetheless. Maybe its time he gave over Iron Man to Rhodey fulltime. If he gets out of here alive. 

  
\--

  
He wakes up to Tiberius kneeling next to him. A grim smirk on his face and a film of sweat all over him, like he's just come in from a workout. He's dressed for it too, sweats and an old t shirt, not naked like Tony. 

'Ty, christ, I thought you were dead,' Tony says. 

Ty jolts, like Tony's quiet words hit him like a sudden clap of thunder. He pauses, get to his feet and smirks. 'Funny you should say that, Tony. I thought you were dead for a minute there too.'

'I'm fine.' It's a hollow lie, but Tony is supposed to be the expert here and his head is banging so bad it’s the best reassurance he can offer. 'Do you know what's going on? And can you pass me, like, a screwdriver or something to get out of these?' He shakes his arm to indicate the shackles. 

Ty laughs. A kind of manic, wheezy laughter. He is so unsettlingly calm that Tony wonders if he has even more experience being kidnapped than Tony does.

'Sorry, Tony, my old friend, but it's not going to be that easy.'

‘I know, but it’s a start. You remember what I told you last night?’ The slurred declarations of love, of begging to be fucked, to let him call Ty Steve. Maybe its as muddy in Ty's mind as it is in Tony’s. He kind of hopes so.

_‘I’m Iron Man_? Not something I’m likely to forget.’ Ty smirks with a levity unfitting for the situation. 

‘Well, I wasn’t kidding. I have a lot if experience with this kind of thing. Don’t worry, I’ll get us out of here. Plus the Avengers will come looking for us.’

'Really? I'm not so sure about that.’

‘Just trust me, Ty. And pass me a screwdriver already.’

‘I can’t do that. You see, unfortunately, Tony Stark died in a tragic accident last night. Car accident, he'd been drinking quite heavily, you see. Disgraceful really. They found the wreck in the early hours, body was so burned up it was unrecognisable, but the DNA results were clear.’

'I don't understand. I'm fine.'

Ty leans over, rests his hand on Tony’s bicep and squeezes gently, as if to reassure.

'Well, you see, now that that tyrant of a boss isn't around to call all the shots, Iron Man can go public. Think of the billions this technology will make.'

‘But...I'm not dead and I’m not selling the armour.’

Ty sighs. 'By God! You're slow on the uptake. I can hardly believe they ever called you a genius. You're dead, Tony. I am Iron Man. The armour is mine, and no one will be looking for you.

‘What the fuck? Why are you doing this?’ 

Tony thinks of his friend. He remembers Ty holding him as he cried all night after his parents' death. The friendly rivalry as they grew, long nights sharing drinks and ideas. He wonders what poison has found its way under Ty's skin. Mind control isn't so unusual in his line if work.

‘I'm doing this because I wanted to see the look on your face. After all these years,' Ty laughs, 'I've seen you in your knees enough times, Tony, but its never felt quite as good as this.'

With this, Ty steps away, over to the shelf where the liquor stands. He chooses a bottle of whisky and stares into it. ‘With your death, shares in Viastone have already skyrocketed. Think of what will happen when I announce our intentions with the armour. After all these years if you holding me back, you're going to be the making of me. A celebration is in order, I say.’ 

He takes another bottle and steps closer to Tony.

Tony wants find the secret behind this unreality and snap him out of it. But there's none to be found. Just the glimmer of long suppressed hatred and the euphoria of a long sought victory.

Tony lunges for him as Ty gets close, but the shackles halt his wrists with an impact like punching a brick wall.

‘That’s no way to repay my generosity. I see you’re not in the mood to share.’

Carefully, Ty puts the bottles down just close enough that Tony could reach them if he stretches, then he turns to leaves.

‘Savour it, Anthony, you won’t be seeing me, or anyone else, ever again.’

Tony reaches for the bottle.


End file.
